


A-Wake

by fairy_obvious



Category: Homeland, The Sopranos
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 23:15:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8421373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairy_obvious/pseuds/fairy_obvious
Summary: Prompt fill for http://carrie-quinn.livejournal.com/168525.htmlFrankly, the only reason for me to post it as part of the challenge is that it was actually written on Hallowe'en. This and maybe that some people think shrinks are scary (are they?).End of Season 4. Carrie is back from Islamabad. Her dad’s funeral is tomorrow. Quinn is missing. She’s on the verge of a breakdown and Maggie suggests she should get some emergency help.A session which could have given us a different ending of Season 4. Or maybe not. What do you think?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zeffy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeffy/gifts).



> It’s a small tribute to Dr Jennifer Melfi from The Sopranos, my fave TV shrink. I thought of her as I wrote and I hear her voice as I re-read it. But if you don’t know her, it doesn’t matter. A conceptual female psychotherapist will do just fine.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t know ANYTHING about psychology, psychiatry or psychoanalysis either as an expert or as a patient. My experience is limited to movies and TV shows. So if it’s downright gibberish from the professional point of view, try to relax and enjoy it, as they say. Happy Hallowe’en!

“You should see her,” said Maggie. “I know you're happy with your current doctor, but Dr. Melfi is really good. She specializes in coping with grief and bereavement. And it's not only about the right medication, you know that.”  

It’s a long session. They go over Carrie’s situation more than once, and considering the limited time and the patient’s reticence, they even make some progress, but the picture still seems incomplete. As if there was a hole in the ground which everyone just tiptoed around, without looking what’s down there.

Dr. Melfi makes a wild guess:

\- When we discussed your hospitalization… and later, when you spoke about Islamabad, you mentioned a colleague of yours. Is it the same person? 

Carrie nods.

\- You said he had joined you in Islamabad because of your work situation. Has it ever occurred to you he could have had different motives for coming there?

\- No… Maybe. So what if it has?

\- How did you feel about it?

\- I don't know. I… had a lot on my plate. And so did he. But I was glad when he came. It meant a lot.

\- It's the second time you use this expression when you speak about him. What exactly did it mean?

_ “That I was not alone.”   _ She has the answer in her head before she even looks for it. Strangely, she can’t say it loud – her throat becomes too tight. Dr. Melfi pushes the tissue box toward her, averting her eyes with professional delicacy. Carrie takes one, but no tears come. Looking down, she starts shredding it to pieces, angry at herself, at the goddamned shrink, at Maggie, at the whole world… At Quinn. 

\- How do you feel about it now?

Silence. Another tissue goes to shreds.

\- What if he’d asked you out?... You're laughing. Why?

\- No, it's just... In my line of work... Never mind. (She stays silent for a while more, thinking.) I’d have turned him down. I’d just fuck it up anyway. Like my parents did.

\- Carrie, by what you said, your father was in a stable marriage for at least twenty years and had two children, with whom he maintained close contact after his marriage collapsed. If we were speaking about strangers, would you still believe they “fucked it up,” as you put it?

\- You don’t know what you’re talking about.

\- You’re right, Carrie. I don’t. But it’s good to sometimes ask yourself if  _ you _ do.

Carrie leaves the medical center irritated and exhausted.  _ “A sheer waste of time, what on earth do these people get paid for.”  _ She tells Maggie it was helpful, though – otherwise her pushy sister would come up with yet another shrink for her to see.

It is late at night when she finally lets herself cry about him. About them. About things she did not see or chose to ignore. Words she never said. Words she might never… She pushes the thought away, clinging to her hope, praying for him to be alive, to make it, to return to her – praying the way she can, although she would deny the fact.

In the morning, she stops at the mirror in her dad’s room, to smooth out the new black sheath dress. In her mind, she is back with her dad. She suddenly wonders what he would have thought of Quinn. Not as her… (Her what?) But, you know, in general. For some reason, she is sure they would have liked each other. The idea brings a faint smile to her lips – and a new surge of tears. She wipes her eyes and reapplies her makeup, sliding the mascara and wet wipes in a handbag. She’ll need them more than once.

It’s going to be a long day.


End file.
